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作词 : Andrew Richards
作曲 : Andrew Richards
My childhood, lopsided, crumbs, trouble, clear-sighted and leaning up against the wall
We'd sellotape the apples back on while they were ripe
sticking to our story every time
We stood there, same mischief, same background, shame-chagrin with hands behind our backs and our eyes faced down
We'd celebrate the victory of buckets and doors
smiling all the way out the front door
How I longed to hold her hand
how I longed to touch her face
how I longed to hear a sound
come from that phone
from far across the town
That night when all went to hell I thought
we'd never see the thorns pulled out of our poor old toes
We'd imitate the noises that we thought we should make
howling at the wind and our mistakes
How I longed to touch her hand
how I longed to see her face
how I longed to hear a sound
come from that voice
from far across the land
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